Saving Grace
by Small Black Kitten
Summary: Loki saves Sif during a battle and they end up alone in a cave, Loki severely wounded. Sif learns a bit too much about Loki's tortured past. Tensions rise as secrets are spilled, Odin is on his death bed, and to top it off someone is framing Loki for treason. Loki's trials are only beginning as he struggles to find his only Saving Grace in a time of mistrust and betrayal. AU
1. Chapter 1

The battle raged on. It was hot, the sun beating down on both sides of the battle. The smell of sweat and blood overwhelmed the naturally sweet air.

"Behind you!" Loki shouted at Thor who spun around and swung Mjolnir into the face of an opponent. Thor nodded solemnly at Loki. Loki nodded back before spinning on his own heel and throwing a dagger into the heart of an enemy.

The battle continued this way for days until both sides started to drop to the ground in exhaustion. Both princes fought on, leading their forces until the enemy called for a retreat. But just before the last enemy soldier had retreated, one loosed an arrow which flew straight at the Lady Sif. Sif turned just in time to see a raven haired man charging towards her, throwing her to the ground. Sif sputtered as she got a handful of dirt in her mouth, spitting and choking on the soil. She turned to growl at Loki, but he was doubled over, an arrow in his side.

A roar rang through the battlefield, the enemy charging back down the hill. Sif glanced at Thor who was rooted in place, staring at his fallen brother. His blue eyes slipped up to meet Sif's gaze. "Take him away! Go!" Thor shouted urgently.

Sif glanced down at Loki, who was now pale and sweaty, clutching at the arrow which was lodged just beneath his ribcage. "GO!" She heard Thor shout once more.

Sif stumbled down to Loki, taking his arm over her shoulder and hoisting him up. She dragged him off the battlefield, the prince trying to walk the best he could but tripping time and time again, leaning heavily against her. Thoughts of how ridiculous this was entered Sif's head. The traitor should be dead. She was tempted to leave him, to let him die for all he had done to Asgard and Midgard.

But something stopped her from dropping the prince then and there. Sentiment, guilt, or duty… she didn't know which. She couldn't let him die.

She spotted a cave nearby, fortunate for the both of them. She gladly let go of Loki so that he tumbled to the floor with a grunt. "Don't tell me I have to help patch you up too." Sif grumbled.

Loki sighed, pushing himself up against the cave wall. "No. I can do that on my own." He was silent for a moment, not meeting her gaze. "I assume I must thank you for getting me to safety."

Sif's eyes narrowed as she looked down at the wounded man. "I did it because I had to. I don't believe I have to thank you for taking the arrow for me either, after all the stuff you've pulled over the last century."

Loki chuckled breathily, clutching his side harder. "That is your right, I guess." He sighed, glancing at the tiny cave entrance. "We should probably retreat farther into the cave. We do not want our enemies seeing us."

Sif surveyed the entrance before nodding in agreement. She didn't bother to help the prince up, but walked right past him to the far back of the cave. Loki watched her before pushing himself to his feet, feeling a pulsing pain in his side that could only mean poison. He gasped as it hit his head, making his vision blur and head pound.

Sif watched as Loki limped to the back of the cave where she sat, an arrow still in his side. She watched as he sat across from her, looking down at the arrow. She winced as he slowly coaxed the arrow shaft out of his leather. He glanced at her wearily before unbuckling the clasps to his leather armor and shrugging it off, leaving a thin tunic on underneath. Blood coated his green tunic, staining it brown.

"Interesting. No arrow head." He muttered as he studied his wound.

"Wouldn't it help if you took off your tunic?" Sif asked irritably.

Loki smirked. "Are you asking me to undress, Lady Sif?"

"No. I'm asking you if it would help to see your wound better without at tunic on." Sif replied flatly.

Loki's smirk faded. "I don't want to take it off."

Sif glared at him. "How are you going to patch it up then?"

Loki tore a piece of fabric from his tunic, wrapping it tightly around his waist, tying knots and weaving other pieces of fabric until the wound stopped gushing blood. Loki pressed himself against the cave wall, panting, his face more pale than usual.

"Where did you learn to do that?" Sif asked, slightly impressed and suspicious. "Let me guess. Those glorious books of yours?"

Loki shook his head, coughing up a chuckle. "Experience."

"You can't have been shot with an arrow more than once. You've always been careful about avoiding injury."

Loki avoided eye contact. "Let us drop this useless conversation. It only matters that I know how to do it."

Sif rolled her eyes. "Fine." Sif glanced at the distant light that was the cave entrance. "Let's just hope we aren't here for too long."

Loki sighed. "Thor will find us. And if he doesn't come to find me, he'll come to find you."

Sif nodded and the both of them fell into an uneasy silence. It began to get late, the sounds of the battle winding down. They couldn't risk going outside, so they would have to wait until the battle was over.

Sif fumed. She should be out there with Thor and the Warriors Three, fighting. Not babysitting the traitor prince.

She felt her eyes start to droop, Loki's already closed. What could be wrong with a short nap?


	2. Chapter 2

When she next awoke, it was to Loki's screaming. She jumped up, unsheathing her sword, prepared to attack whatever foe was in the cave. But there was none. Her eyes shot to Loki. He was drenched in sweat, his eyes moving under their lids with a dream.

His eyes flew open and he clutched at his wound, groaning in pain. His face was white and slick with yet more sweat. He was afraid.

Sif had never seen him like this. He was the rebellious Prince, proud and cocky. She watched as he writhed and then settled, staring up at the cave ceiling, breathing hard. Crying.

"What was that?" Sif asked, baffled.

Loki's eyes hazily floated towards hers. He chuckled but it turned into a cough. "A dream, dear Sif."

"A dream of what? What foul dreams could bring a Prince to tears?"

Loki looked away. "None that you would wish for."

He was different. There was something off about him. She knelt at his side, touching her hand to his forehead. She almost jumped back at how hot his forehead was. This was bad. He was Jotun. He was supposed to be cool, not boiling hot. She searched for anything in her knowledge that could help him, but she only ever killed Jotuns, not kept them alive.

She did know she had to keep him awake. The symptoms he was showing could only mean poison. She had to keep him talking. That wouldn't be hard to do.

He was already nodding off.

"Hey!" She snapped her fingers. "You have to stay awake. Talk about something that will keep you awake for the next six hours."

Loki attempted a chuckle. "I do not think you would want to talk to me right now. I would think you would be happy that I am dying."

Sif sat back down in her spot across from him. She watched the ground. "I can't disobey Thor's wish. He wants you to live. Besides, even if you are a treacherous rat, we were friends once. Good friends."

Loki winced, trying to sit himself up against the wall. "More than just friends."

Sif fought the heat spreading up her neck. At least it was dark out. Dark. How long had they been asleep? "I do not want to talk about that." She snapped.

Loki grinned weakly. "Of course not."

It was quiet. He was falling asleep again.

She had to think of something that would keep him awake. "What was your dream about?"

This snapped him awake, his hard gaze locking on her. "That is for me and me only. You do not need to know about it."

Sif's brows raised. This was a good topic. "Yes, I do. You woke me up screaming."

Loki's head lolled back onto the cave wall. It was quiet. She thought he had gone asleep again when his head came back up and he looked at her. His pupils were dilated, everything off about him. He started talking, his words slow. She wondered if he even knew he was talking to her. "The void. The monsters that found me in the Void. They did things to me…" He trailed off.

"What things?" Sif's curiosity piqued.

Loki was stuttering for words. Then, he just looked at her. And he started to take off his bloodied tunic. Sif knew what he looked like without it. He was shrimpy with almost no muscles. His skin was pale and smooth and perfect. But when he lifted the tunic off of his back and dropped in on the floor next to him, her eyes widened, her mouth falling open.

His chest was disfigured. It looked as though someone had torn his skin to pieces and stitched it back together. Thick bands of scars crossed his chest, this way and that. Small scars littered his skin. There was no place where there wasn't a scar.

"They had to convince me somehow." Loki began, folding his arms over his chest, more scars on his arms. He made another bandage and tied it tightly around his wound to keep it from oozing more blood.

"Who's 'they'?" Sif asked quietly, reserved.

"My allies, of course!" Loki laughed. "Battle scars are glorious. The scars earned from torture are shameful. That means that you survived, that you gave in. Well, I did give in. After months of darkness and beatings, cuttings and hopelessness. After a while, I realized I had nothing to lose from joining them."

Sif's natural thoughts bubbled out of her mouth. "Why didn't you take your own life?"

Loki laughed again. "I tried. They caught me before I died, stitched me back up, and sent a white hot iron through my middle as punishment, leaving it there until it cooled."

Sif was quiet, studying each scar. They were too real, too ridged, too pale. If it weren't for the scars, he would have had a body better than Thor's. His chest had broadened, but his figure was still lean. But now he was muscular, tested in battle. "Why haven't you told Thor?"

Loki stared down at his wrists. "I am a cowardly snake as it is. Why should I tell him? It would just make him pity me, worry about me. I don't deserve his attention any more than anyone else's. I'd rather be despised. You might as well kill me now and save Thor the chore of doing it later."

Sif could only stare at him. He was so different than before his fall. He looked worn and tired now that she looked closely at him. It was as if he was hollow inside. He used to be young and spritely. Happy. "No! If you are going to die, it will be at the hand of an enemy, not mine. Thor would never forgive me."

Loki barked out a laugh, delirious and uncontrolled. "Forgive you for what? Letting his younger brother die?" Loki was mocking her. "I am a burden to him. A constant reminder of how I ruined his life. It would have been better if I had died the first time I tried to kill myself!" Loki coughed blood into his hand. "Or better yet, if dear father Odin hadn't even bothered to take in a little Frost Giant runt for political gain. He should have left me on that frozen rock to die. He's said so himself."

Sif had grown up with a family. Two younger sisters, an older brother, a loving mother, a protective but encouraging father. She had never been told by any of her family that they wished her dead. She thought of Loki's family. A dead mother, possibly the only person he had loved. A father who had completely disowned him and ignored his very presence. And a brother who didn't care if he fell in battle, even when taking an arrow for a childhood friend. And when she really thought about it, she couldn't remember the last time Thor had even talked to Loki.

Her eyes roamed Loki's chest once more. She had seen the scars of torture victims before. And he put all of them combined to shame. It looked as though he had been put through a meat grinder. "Well, I did give in. After months of darkness and beatings, cuttings and hopelessness. After a while, I realized I had nothing to lose from joining them." Loki's words from just a moment ago.

She didn't want to feel pity towards him. She hated the aching feeling in her chest at the thought of what they could have possibly done to him to make him look like this. A word in his earlier statement began to fill her mind with questions. Darkness? After months of darkness… what could he possibly mean by that? "What did you mean by darkness? You said after a few months of darkness you gave in."

Loki's eyes were clouding over, but it cleared at her words. He was quiet, hesitating even in his delirious state. "Darkness." Loki whispered, a sharp fear in his voice. "Falling. I fell. I let go. I thought I would die in the void… but I didn't die. I fell for months through absolute darkness. Couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, couldn't move. Only remembering what Father had said to me to make me let go. I thought about it over and over and there was darkness everywhere. No light. I didn't know if I was floating up or down or side to side."

He coughed up more blood into his hand. His voice was getting scratchy and high-pitched. "Darkness. Months of darkness. Nobody there to pull me out. Until They showed up."

"How did they show up?" Sif swallowed the lump in her throat.

Loki groaned in pain, clutching his head. "Ships. They found me somehow… Pulled me in and threw me in a cage until I reminded myself how to talk. Then they brought me before… Th… Him." Loki was curling into a fetal position.

Sif resisted the urge to go to him and comfort him as she would Thor after he lost his Jane. "Who's Him?"

Loki gasped, his eyes screwed shut, his hands curling into fists at the side of his head. "Stop… asking… questions!"

Sif's face contorted into anger. She leaned over and slapped him hard across the face. "You'll answer any questions I ask!" Then, she hurriedly pulled back, wondering why she had done that. She'd hit Loki many times before, purposefully knocking into him to take out her anger on him, trying to beat him up or stomp on his foot or accidentally cut him with her sword. But this was different. She felt guilty this time.

Loki blinked several times, his pupils shrinking to pinpricks. "Of course." He mumbled. And the look on his face was guarded, ready to flinch back if hit again. His body gone into protective mode, like a prisoner would do to their interrogator. His breathing was shaky. "Thanos. Mad Titan. One who can warp time and minds. Prolong your torture session to feel like a year instead of a few minutes. Mess with your memories, make you think you were thrown off the Bifrost instead of intentionally letting go to kill yourself. Make you believe it is your divine purpose to serve Him. Lead his armies, kill mortals, lie and betray and kill without mercy."

Sif clamped her mouth shut. She couldn't take this anymore. These were all lies. He was making it up. The scars were probably an illusion, the wound too. There hadn't even been an arrow head. She leaned forward and splayed her hand across his chest. He flinched, but she ignored it. She focused on his scars. They couldn't be real. But they were. They were thick and thin and tough to the feel, ridges that rose up out of his skin.

She jerked her hand back and sat against the wall of the cave, opposite of Loki. And they were both quiet for hours. When Loki's coughing started to get infinitely worse, she knew he was going to die if she didn't get help. He could barely form words now.

She stood up and began walking to the cave entrance. She had to find Thor, see if the battle was done. It had to be by now. "Wait!" Loki choked out.

He was completely out of it now. He was panicking. "Where… going?"

"I'm going to find Thor. Stay here."

Loki slumped to the floor once more, seemingly dead, but still breathing.

Sif hurriedly sprinted through the woods.

She didn't want him to die anymore.

She wanted him to live.

To tell Thor what had happened to him.

* * *

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	3. Chapter 3

The battlefield was empty, save for the bodies littering the ground. And there was Thor and the Warriors Three, picking through the fallen with the rest of their army, to find survivors. Thor looked untroubled. Perhaps he didn't know that Loki was dying. Or he had forgotten where she and Loki had gone. "Thor!" She called, desperation and panic starting to cloud her thoughts.

Thor's head snapped up from a fallen soldier, his eyes finding hers. "Lady Sif. You are well. We were worried you had not made it."

Sif was panting by the time she made it to him. "Loki needs medical attention. Now."

Thor's gaze hardened. "So do these soldiers. His life does not have preference over theirs. They need help just as badly."

Sif felt as though she could rip his blond head off his shoulders. "He is your brother! Do you not care if he dies?"

Thor sighed and stood up, towering over her. "No. He deserves death if it comes to him. I will not get involved."

Sif snarled. "He saved my life! He deserves to live!"

Thor's meaty hands clenched into fists. "Not after all the lives he has taken!"

"Jane's death was not his fault! He wasn't even there when it happened!"

Thor turned on his heel, walking away from her. "It was his fault."

Sif hissed in frustration, knowing Loki's time was running out. The Warriors Three were staring at her as though she had lost her mind. "Then you three will help me. Come on!" She shouted, leaving no room for arguing.

Loki was lying on the floor of the cave, panting weakly. His bandages had stayed in place, but blood had soaked them through and was dripping to the floor. Blood ran out of the corner of his mouth. He coughed up more blood.

"Loki?" Sif asked, shaking his shoulder gently. Loki's eyes slowly opened, peering at her without recognition. "We're going to get you out of here." Loki's eyes closed, a small nod.

She looked back up at the Warriors Three to see them staring at the prince. The blood. The scars. She had forgotten about the scars. She forgot they had not seen them as she had. "Come on. We're losing him." She muttered.

"What happened to him?" Volstagg asked awkwardly.

Sif didn't answer. "We need to hurry. Let's get a move on."

They gently lifted him and set him on a wooden board Hogun had brought, strapping him down tightly. They carried him all the way to his tent, where a healer was summoned.

The four friends stood over Loki, unsure of what to do as they waited for the healer. Usually after a battle, they would have gone and cleaned themselves up. But they couldn't leave him here alone, their ageless anger towards him temporarily set aside. They pulled up chairs and sat around him, watching him.

Sif sighed, her eyes scanning the tent. Thor's was at least a little personalized, with weapons and clothes and letters from home. But Loki had nothing but a simple mattress on the floor with a thin green blanket neatly spread over it, now rumpled by Loki's battered body, and a single wooden trunk at the foot of his bed, most likely for clothes and weapons.

She could now see the cuts and bruises that lined his torso, earned from the previous battle.

"I wonder how long the healer will take." Volstagg muttered, stroking his beard. "I am hungry."

Everyone rolled their eyes and the silence continued. Until Fandral spoke up. "So… Looks as though are little friends here had a fun time with you in that cave. What did he tell you?"

Sif glared at Fandral. "I don't think he would want me telling idiots like you."

"Do these protective feelings for our fallen prince come from the times you slept in his bed?" Fandral grinned.

Sif's face flushed red. "We never-"

"Don't deny it!" Fandral laughed. "We all could tell."

Sif's hand reached for her sword. "Say that again." She growled. All three warriors laughed at Sif's red face. "That was centuries ago." She muttered.

"Tell us, dear Sif, how much did his shrimpy body please your eyes? And his bookish habits?"

Sif rolled her eyes. "As I said. That was centuries ago, before I knew the value of muscle."

Fandral and Volstagg chuckled. But Hogun's eyes were on Loki's limp body. "Sif. You can trust us. We will not tell a single soul."

"Not you too, Hogun." Sif groaned in exasperation.

"I swear on my place in Valhalla we will not tell." Fandral said, serious now.

"Aye."

"Aye."

Sif looked down at Loki, knowing he only told her because he had been out of it. "No. I can't. I'm sorry."

There was an awkward silence. It was only broken when a servant peeked into the tent and informed them that Thor needed her. "Why can't he come here?" Sif snapped.

"He does not want to come into this particular tent."

Sif nearly threw her sword at the messenger. "Well, you tell him that I refuse to talk to him until he comes in here, where I will be waiting."

The servant bowed and left. The Warriors Three stood, nodding at Sif and then leaving, going to clean themselves up. Sif didn't know why she stayed. But she felt obligated to stay until she knew he would be alright. Perhaps it was the guilt of letting him take her arrow, which surely would have killed her in minutes, or the now-learned truth of why he had done what he had in the past.

That was when Head Healer Eir came in, much to her surprise.

She knelt by his side, undoing the straps. She wasn't surprised by the scars. Instead, she expertly untied the bandage around his side and studied the wound, healing it as much as she could and cleaning it, wrapping it up again, and giving him an antidote for the poison. Eir asked Sif several questions about what had happened while she worked on Loki's bandages. Sif told the healer about what had happened in the cave. When Eir stood up to leave, Sif stopped her. "What poison did he have?"

"Heart's Death." Eir answered simply.

Sif's mouth went dry. "But… doesn't Heart's Death kill you in minutes?"

"Yes. But he has built up an immunity for it. Not enough to be completely immune, but enough to let him live."

"And what about the scars? You don't seem at all surprised."

Eir's eyes searched Sif's. She sighed, cleaning blood off of her hands and sterilizing them while she talked. "He sees me quite often. Usually it is only for a sleeping tonic."

Sif's eyes flitted to Loki's closed ones.

"And it is none of your business to share any of what happened in that cave, either." Eir added pointedly to Sif. "Heart's Death makes one delirious. Hard for the victim to keep in information. But even in his condition, he would not have told you a fraction of what he was experienced. The only reason I know is because I wouldn't give him a sleeping tonic unless he told me, which was wrong of me at the time, but I was angry at him as all of you still are. I've already revealed too much. Tell him that I told you any of this and he'll stop coming to me for his sleeping tonics and go back to gagging himself while he sleeps to stifle his screams. I'd much prefer if he didn't do that." And with that, Eir was gone.

* * *

When he finally woke up, it was pitch black outside. Loki tried to sit up, but crumpled back onto his bed just as quickly. His eyes met hers. And they were completely closed off as they usually were. "Lady Sif. What a shock to see you in my tent." He pulled the blanket over his chest, covering his scars, ashamed of them.

"I wanted to make sure you would wake up." She answered sharply, trying to muster some hostility.

Loki's now blank eyes closed, taking in a deep breath. "And did my brother come to help rescue me as you said?"

Sif's eyes fell to the ground. "I believe you already know the answer to that."

Loki laughed bitterly, the laugh fading quickly. "And I am guessing his reply to your plea for help runs along the lines of 'Loki deserves to die for the lives he's already taken'?"

Sif blinked. "Yes. Those were almost his exact words."

Loki hummed in response, not meeting her gaze. "Then you best be going. Thor will start to think I have cast a curse on you, or perhaps started manipulating your thoughts. Run along, Little Sif."

Sif was about to protest when Thor came through the entrance of the tent, his eyes not even acknowledging Loki. "I was told you were in here. We are having a war meeting in the morning. I do not wish for you to stay here all night, either."

Loki's eyes were completely empty, then. Looking at nothing, as if the world didn't exist. As if he was plotting his own demise, which he probably was. Sif sprang from her seat after Thor, who had stormed out of the tent. And she punched him in the face. Hard enough to make him stumble.

"Is this the Thor I grew up with? The one who would stop at nothing to protect his brother? Who was the one to guard Loki from the spiteful cursings of others? The one who once spent weeks at his sick brother's side, helping in any way he could to get back to health?"

Thor's lips were pulled in a tense line. "We have all changed. As well as Loki. Tell me, Sif. Is he the same Loki that would stop the abusive whip of an angry soldier? The one who would read in the library for hours at a time, yet come on missions with us and jest with us? Is Loki still the same man, who had once saved a little girl from being run over by a horse-drawn carriage? No. Now, he would push that girl in front of the carriage and watch as she died."

Sif's lips rose into a sneer. "You honestly believe that? Your thoughts are clouded! When was the last time you talked to him? Asked him why he did the things he did? Asked him what exactly happened in the void?"

Thor's expression turned to suspicion. "What do you mean by that? I know exactly what happened."

"Do you?" Sif growled.

"Yes. He was found by the Mad Titan, Thanos. They signed a contract. Loki would get to rule Midgard, Thanos the universe."

"Is that what Loki told you?"

"No." Thor ground out. "I asked my father."

Sif huffed in disbelief. "If you really want to find out what happened, go look at his torso. Pull the blanket off of him and see for yourself what happened to him. Why he goes to Eir in secret to receive a sleeping tonic, why he has a curious immunity to Heart's Death, why he was only willing to take off his tunic in front of someone was because he was bleeding to death in a cave last night and he was delirious! Until then, you and I have no more to talk about."

Sif left.

Thor stayed, halted in his tracks by Sif's words. None of them made sense. Eir had never reported anything to his Father. Loki had probably built up an immunity to Heart's Death… somehow… in his studies centuries ago. And he was probably too proud to display a weakness in front of anyone.

But Thor stayed, staring at the flap to the tent. Loki had killed Jane. He was the reason Jane was not his wife. Why Thanos knew where to find his beloved Jane. Jane. Sweet, smart, brilliant, beautiful Jane. But Sif was right. Loki was his brother, though not by blood, but by memory. And the sharp pain of Frigga's death, the mother who had expected them to be brothers, forced him to walk into the tent.


	4. Chapter 4

Loki didn't notice him, not at first. The traitor prince had sat up in his bed, a notebook in his lap, scrawling away furiously. Thor let his eyes go to where Sif had mentioned, to his brother's torso. He felt a twinge of sickness grow in the pit of his stomach. Scars. Stories told by pain. A lot of pain for a nearly impossible-to-scar person. Thor's major injuries from that day were already healed, and so were Loki's, as indicated by the bloody bandages at the foot of his bed, so it only added to the mystery of how the scars had gotten there.

Sif had said something about the void.

What had really happened in the void?

What indeed?

Loki's even voice pushed through his thoughts. "I believe you may have the wrong tent, Prince Thor." Loki was pulling on a tunic over his head, pulling it on and hiding the scars, acting like Thor had never seen them. Loki set the book he had been writing in to the side and stood up. He was too pale. He was trembling. He winced as he took a step towards the only trunk in the room, pulling out another piece of paper, returning to the book, and fiddling to fit the paper into the book.

"What happened in the void?" Thor's voice cut through the thick silence.

Loki hummed in amusement. "A few centuries too late to be worrying about something of the past, is it not?"

"Someone once told me the past makes the future what it is. So stop with the silvertongue and answer me."

Loki sighed. "I almost wish Sif would have let me sleep instead of making me stay awake. Heart's Death is really no good for keeping secrets."

"Then we shall start there. How did you build an immunity to Heart's Death?"

Loki grinned. "All part of the wondrous tale that is my life."

Thor felt red creeping into the edges of his mind. Blind fury was a common symptom when it came to talking with Loki. The man was too much of a silvertongue to get anything out of. Time and time again, Thor would want to send Mjolnir through the younger man's head just to get rid of his tricky words. "I did not come here to listen to your silvertongue lies. Tell me."

Loki continued to fiddle with his notebook, trying to fit more paper into the binding. "My allies helped me. Does that answer your question?"

Thor's hands went to the hammer at his side. "Enough. Tell me or I will not hesitate to-"

"To kill me? Go ahead. Death and I can't seem to meet properly." Loki tossed the book onto his bed and then stood fully square to the Thunder God's chest, almost challenging.

Thor went quiet, seriously anticipating crushing Loki's skull and throwing him out onto the battlefield, saying he fell during battle. "Would you like to spend the rest of your days in the dungeons?"

Loki laughed bitterly. "Is that the best threat you can come up with?"

Thor growled, his fingers tightening around Mjolnir's leather handle until his knuckles were drained of all color. "Loki!" He bellowed, the rage surging through his veins.

Loki could almost feel the electricity in the air. His eyes narrowed to slits, memories jabbing into the back of his mind like a wasp, ready to sting. Memories of sunny, beautiful afternoons, playing out in the gardens with Thor. They each held a wooden sparring sword in their hands, and Thor was intently chasing Loki through the shrubs, trampling all the lilies and daisies as he went whilst Loki deftly avoided the delicate plants. Their mother ended up grabbing Thor by his ear and dragging him away, confiscating the toy while Loki rolled on the ground laughing.

He felt as though this scene was similar to the one outside his mind. Thor, standing there with a weapon in his hand, trampling their ever-so-carefully placed barriers that kept them both from snapping.

But this time, Frigga wasn't there to pull Thor back.

"Odinson, even if I told you anything, I can assure you it would not be the truth. You have no right to demand such a thing of me, and I am in no way obligated to answer your questions. You may be the Crown Prince, but I am hardly a denizen of Asgard. The dungeons are an easy thing to avoid. Now leave me be."

Thor whipped around and left the tent, trailing fumes of outrage.

* * *

Loki sat on his bed, resting his face in his hands as he rubbed under his eyes. His head was pounding still, his side aching just the tiniest bit, and humiliation at having let so many see his scars that day ground into what little pride he had left.

He saw his journal out of the corner of his eye, and he snatched it up, hurling it at the hard ground, pages flipping as it soared through the air, the hardcover skidding across the ground as it landed. He wanted to hit a piece of metal until it shattered, crush a piece of wood in his hands until it groaned in anguish, destroy everything he could see.

But the energy that it took to throw the journal made his head spin. He laid down on his bed, resting his palms over his eyes, his fingers gripping his hair. His chest heaved a ragged breath, a sharp pain from his still-healing side sending daggers through his lungs.

When the pain lessened, he laid there, staring up at the ceiling of the tent, watching the tiny shadows of ants crawling on the outside, exploring the intruding structure.

How ironic an ant was.

He sat up, standing from the bed and retrieving his journal, picking up a few loose pages that had scattered on his floor. He put it back together as he had done many times and opened it back up to where he had left off.

* * *

 _Entry 1136_

 _I took an arrow for Lady Sif. I shouldn't have. Its tip was made purely of Heart's Death. It dissolved into my blood system. I was delirious for hours. I couldn't keep anything in my mind and out of my mouth. I exposed some of my time in the void._

 _It was not meant for her ears._

 _She has told Thor to question me, something that was not her right to do._

 _He tried. He failed. And I am still alive. It frustrates me to no end. Am I to while away eternity doing absolutely nothing? There is nothing I can accomplish. I am no Prince, not in the eyes of the Allfather and Thor. Odin is very near death and will most likely die within the next few months. And when Odin dies, Thor will see me executed or banished. Or, as he threatened today, locked in the dungeons for the rest of my life._

* * *

He could have written so much more. But he felt too tired now. His eyes were sore from want of sleep. His head was still pounding, and he wanted nothing more than to hide in his blankets and sleep away the rage he felt.

So, he set the book aside and stood from the bed, going to find Eir.

He wandered through the camp, searching for the Healer's tent where she would most likely be. Most of the men were asleep, all bandaged up and ready to go home to their families, their wives, their children. Again, Loki felt that pang in his heart. Jealousy, perhaps.

He sometimes thought about what it would have been like if he had never fallen from the Bifrost. If he had never gotten involved with the Frost Giants in the first place. Never goaded Thor into going to Jotunheim.

If he had never found out he was Jotun.

He would undoubtedly have married Sigyn. He might have even had some children by now. He wouldn't be so alone. He wouldn't have to go find the Head Healer for a sleeping tonic every night. He wouldn't have such disfigured skin.

He had seen himself in the mirror as a Jotun with all of his scars.

It was the most hideous thing he had ever seen.

Even if he had never fallen, if he had married Sigyn, if he had children… he would have found it odd that they were half Jotun. Besides, that life was a fantasy. If he hadn't done what he had, Thor would have gotten the crown, would have invaded Jotunheim, would have caused thousands of casualties in ruthless bloodshed.

A war between realms was greater than any kind of war Loki had ever been in. It would not only affect the balance in Yggdrasil, it would crush economies, travelling, delicate alliances with other kingdoms that would have to choose a side. It would have devastated the nine realms as it almost had thousands of years ago.

His choice had merely been the better of two evils.

He eventually found the tent Eir was in, and he watched as she pushed a needle through two sides of a laceration, stringing thread, pulling the wound closed as the delirious soldier cried out in pain. She finished sewing the cut together, wiping away the drying blood and applying a healing salve over the wound before wrapping it up in thick bandages, two assistants lifting the wooden plank the man was on once she was finished and carrying him away, most likely to a tent full of other wounded soldiers.

The other patients in the room were crowded around by other healers, giving the over-worked woman a chance to breathe.

Loki watched as she wiped blood onto her bloody apron and washed them in a basin of clean water, scrubbing at the crimson smeared across her arms and under her fingernails.

He waited, leaning against a tall, heavy wooden crate most likely filled with medical supplies as she finished washing up. She turned around, her tightly braided brown hair swinging over her shoulder as she turned to look at him with her weary brown eyes.

She held up a finger, indicating that she would be back momentarily, and then disappeared behind a flap that separated her personal space from the rest of the tent. She returned with a small glass bottle, a clear tonic sloshing around inside, and another bottle, filled with a similar clear liguid. She gave the bottles to the tall knew one was his sleeping tonic, but didn't know what the other was.

"What is this?" He asked.

"That is more antidote. You got a strong dose of poison, and I doubt what I gave you earlier was enough... How is your side?"

Loki shifted from one foot to the other. It hurt. "It feels fine."

Eir sighed, smoothing away a few loose strands of hair from her sweaty forehead as she yawned. "You will need to see me tomorrow for even more antidote. You should be fine until tomorrow. Just make sure to take it easy."

Loki wanted to roll his eyes. "Of course, my lady. Anything else you would like me to do?"

Eir gave him a sharp look. "Cut the sarcasm." She winked before turning away to go see if any of the other healers needed help.

Loki stopped her, clearing his throat. "What happened when Sif brought me back?"

Eir rested her hands on her shapely hips, exhaustion radiating from her features. "She got the Warriors Three to help retrieve you. They tried asking questions, but the Lady Sif told nothing. Trust me, your secret is safe with her. And with me, for that matter. She seems worried about you, by the way. Maybe you should try talking to her about what happened. She stayed by your bedside for hours, you know."

Loki glared at the short healer. "Sif pities me, nothing more. Talking to her would be asking for her to spite me and tell everyone. I should have let her take the arrow."

Eir glared back at him. "And then what would have happened? A noble warrior would have died in minutes. Her heart would have started beating so fast it would have killed itself. That's why the call it Heart's Death. She would have writhed on the ground in a pool of her own blood, choking and screaming and flailing about until her heart exploded. In a smaller dose, she would have spilled all her own secrets and then died. Are you saying you would have prefered that?"

Loki actually took a moment to consider it, stroking his chin as if he were thinking intently about it. "It sounds appealing enough."

Eir touched Loki's arm, her earth-brown eyes filled with warmth. "Even if nobody sees it this way, you saved a life today. And even if she hasn't thanked you, I bet you my stitches that she feels gratitude somewhere in her heart. Anyone would. In fact, I must thank you for preventing one more burden on my shoulders. You have done a noble thing today. You are a hero, Prince Loki. Thank you."

And with that, she turned and left him standing there, speechless, gripping the sleeping tonic and antidote, watching as she put on a clean apron and went to help set a broken leg.

He returned to his tent, his heart feeling just the tiniest bit lightened by Eir's words.

* * *

 **Hey! Thanks for reading! Make sure to comment! (In case you were confused... there will be NO pairing between Loki and Sif. Unless that's what you guys REALLY want.) What do you guys think of Eir? Do you guys want to see more or less of her? Also, If you left a guest review and don't see it in the comment section, for some reason Fanfiction is taking a long time to post them when I moderate them, but they should turn up within 24 hours.**

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